Anonymous Story: On JP

We were in the office room of my parents house. Both of my parents were out that evening, or maybe it was late afternoon. There had been an incident the week before in my room where we had almost had sex, but I held back at the last minute; starting to cry and was saying I wasn’t ready. I later heard this was recounted at his high school lunch table with jest. Back to the next week later we were in my parents computer room. It was 2006, desktop computers were a thing, as were spaces dedicated to them. Teenagers everywhere would be and hang out where they were located. I remember playing a movie on the TV that was on top of the crackle painted filing cabinet in that office. Kissing was fine, touching okay, but when the end of the film rolled around, it was the credits of ‘O Brother Where Art Thou’, somehow I was penetrated. I froze, was sobbing, pulled on my shorts, and sped downstairs to my parents liquor cabinet. I sucked down the strangest combination of creme de menthe, Kahlúa, and who knows what else – I didn’t drink before that really. The next day I begged my dearest friend to take me to planned parenthood for the morning after pill. I don’t remember if he had used a condom or even finished. At 16, feeling used, gross, broken (I had wanted to wait longer and felt I let myself down), and strange; I knew I needed absolute assurance I would not become pregnant with this person’s child. Sitting in the PP office was surreal. I got the pills, took them, and went home. It had already happened, he was my boyfriend, he loved me, we were dating a month. He was my first kiss – first everything really. He was complicated and intelligent, from a complicated home life. I found out he did cocaine, someone who became a friend later told me (not so kindly) in our high schools library that he had an entirely different part of his life than I knew. He went to rehab – got out – his extended family would not take him in (famous Christians that they were, ironically I had gone to Bible Fellowship Christian youth group with his cousin) and my parents allowed him to stay with us. Months had gone by, by this point. I made it clear we were not romantic – but still we had sex. I said no, I said no, I said no; but still we had sex. He played off of my difficult relationship with my parents – he had charm – I was utterly insecure as a 16 year old – but still I said no and still we had sex. In my home, in my house, in my room, in my bed. He was in the guest room for over a month, maybe two? I tried to explain, but it was complicated. I tried to explain it wasn’t what I wanted. But we had dated, my parents loved him, my friends loved him, my peers loved him, he was so charming, and I was a 16 year old/ 17 year old girl who once had called him my boyfriend. So, didn’t I ask for it?

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